Codename: Murphy
by zzetta13
Summary: A dip into a new story arc for me. Murphy wasn't just a survivor of zombie bites, he is a pawn in a bigger plan. He is part of an agenda which needs agents. Personnel on the outside to roam the country and report back their findings. The only thing is, he does not know it yet.
1. Chapter 1

_**Codename: Murphy**_

Author's notes: Hello Fan-fic friends. I find it so awesome that _Zombie_ (movies, tv shows, comic books, songs and other media) have bonded us together. There is some fashion that they could become very real. Now, that is not to say that walking dead people could become a reality, but actually, the worldwide spread of a disease or virus could.

Anyway, this is my first attempt at a Z-Nation fan-fic story, and, as always, I've put my own little twists and turns into this creation. Too, as I've always enjoyed mixing it up a bit, there will be (and what I hope for), intrigue and conspiracy thrown into the work as the story progresses. I don't think that a global catastrophe, like a plague, would just happen without someone's knowledge. I post a desire to uncover the faces behind the madness, the persons in control...the evil powers that want the world all for themselves, as to say.

Anyhoo, I hope that readers like and find this story arc interesting, and want to return, and as always, my thanks to you for taking a gander, Z.

_**Murphy (Acronym), Military Undercover & Reconnaissance Personnel Hybrids.**_

_This first chapter begins at the end of the Z Nation episode-Murphy's Law, and I extend my thanks to the creators and producers of a program who have allowed me borrow their characters, and also for a show that I've become rather fond of. Have Mercy, Z. _

_************ De-Zeased *************_

As he sat in the rear seat of the vehicle, in which he was riding, he glanced about the cab. He could see that the four remaining survivors on this journey were not paying him any heed, which was normal. If he wasn't Murphy then he wouldn't be paying himself much mind either. Anyway...they were likely too tired or too tied up their own thoughts to concern themselves with anything about him.

He pulled some loose skin from his hand, and he knew that his condition was getting worse...just how bad he would become, and how long would it take before he was totally changed was the question, and too, once zombified, could there be any chance going back, of returning to human? Could the injection he'd been given reverse the sickness and return him to himself again? That was the question.

Anyway, since the beginning of this tour, he hadn't minded playing the idiot. Murphy was OK with having people think of him as an imbecile, someone incapable of thinking of anyone other than himself, well, they were wrong. He was actually thinking about his family. He looked around from face to face.

There was Roberta Warren, a National Guard military type who had been stationed in upstate New York...she was driving the vehicle, and then there was Doctor Beck, an older gentleman who was not really a doctor but someone who had an affection for drugs and medicine, and was familiar with their usage. Then there was Cassandra, a young woman with a past as nearly as dark as his own, and lastly there was 10K, another person that there was little known about, well except for the fact that he was quiet, and had a passion for killing "Zs".

Yes, they were quite the motley crew, and he himself, Murphy, was the only remaining survivor to be walking the planet after surviving a feast of the undead..._**zombies**_. Yeah, they had tried to devour him alive, but he had made it through (he had the eight bite marks on his body to prove it). However Mr. Murphy still had secrets, things about himself, undisclosed.

Murphy held in confidence a lot more than he was willing to tell. There were some things still unknown to him, but there were some that were known to him as well. Secret things, unavowed...things that at this time he was not willing to divulge to the rest of the group, for instance, one, that he may NOT be the only surviving person who had been bitten by zombies and lived to tell the tale, there may be others. And two, he may know of their locations, well, at least were they had originated from. They were likely on the move now, just as he was.

Murphy had begun his fate in this new apocalypse while as an inmate in a prison system in New York State. He, and the other prisoners of the ward, had known for a while during their incarceration that something was happening outside their walls, in the outer community. They had become suspicious after the regular guards of the penitentiary, had fled and then been replaced with military personnel (it was seen, and believed, that they were being kept in the blind). Secretes were being cultivated, things that would keep them from rioting. Their Warden wasn't telling them everything, and, if an inmate couldn't trust his warden to tell him at the the semi-truth about what was going on then who could he trust? No, the inmates were being kept in the dark until it was absolutely necessary for them to know what was going down and going down quickly.

It had taken weeks, maybe months, before they knew that the world outside their walls had reach an apex, an apocalypse, and too, that the prison was actually one of the safest places to be. Its high walls and encased fences had held back the Zs for a time, however, soon those barriers would fail and the prison would be assumed that when that time came, the prisoners would be sacrificed (so that the military guys could make their escape).

Then, there came an opportunity to save himself, to get out, he took the chance and volunteered. Now, what he had volunteered for he was not exactly clear on...however, if it gave him the chance at staying alive and not become a zombie-burger, then he was all for it.

Murphy remembered the moment when he and a couple of other inmates were taken to the prison infirmary; they had been seated on a gurney and given a clipboard with a document on it, a document to sign. He had questioned the military guard who had been placed over his shoulder about this.

"So, what am I signing," he had asked?

"A legal document, a binding contract that says you're a volunteer, in case you survive," the Sergeant had said "Can't have you suing the government at a later date just because you think that you might have been railroaded, or misled. The world is in a state of peril and, at this time, sacrifices have to be made. But when things get better we can't have individuals claiming that they were used as guinea pigs and then for them to seek legalities."

Murphy wasn't sure he understood the answer. He looked down at the document; it was about a page long, and being the kind of jester that he was he again looked at the sergeant and asked...

"So, you're wanting me to sign but not giving me a chance to read the fine-print? Hey, in one of my former jobs I use to be a used car salesman, so, as they say, don't piss down my back and tell me it's raining. I know when I'm being set up."

The army sergeant viewed him (Murphy), as an individual that didn't listen to orders. He was someone that questioned everything, and he, himself, the sergeant, didn't have the time to explain things, nor had he the patients for this bullshit. He had been given orders to bring three inmates down to the infirmary pronto, and have them sign legal documentation before the prison collapsed, and this inmate was starting to push his stress buttons...

"OK, you have one minute," he spoke.

Murph, at this time, paused to review the document. He began to read (and actually, his real name wasn't Murphy), the document began...

"_I..."_ (and then there was a space for his real name), "_...being of sound mind and body, agree to be inoculated with an experimental vaccine, the Hybrid drug DZ (De-Zombie), in order to assist the scientific and medical communities in their quest for finding an antidote for the infection virus which has spread across the country (and also the globe). I understand that this places me in a position of risk, and I agree to forfeit claims to my rights should the mission fail in order to help in the salvation of humankind. This I do allow, and understand that I have now become a property of the government, one of their MURPHYs__(Military Undercover & Reconnaissance Personnel Hybrids), to assist in their goal to help in the resurrection of the nation, or the reconstruction of the world. For my actions my family will be well compensated."_

Murphy looked up at the Sergeant who seemed to be in charge, the man who seemed to be running the show.

"And what if I refuse to sign?"

The sergeant then quickly pulled his 45 caliber pistol from his holster and placed it a mere fraction from the volunteers' head. He spoke no words, his actions did all the talking.

"I see, well guess I will sign," Murphy said with a nervous grin. He signed the paper and without looking up he added, "...want me to sign over my first born too, that is, if I don't die first, or this new drug doesn't make me sterile." he looked over to the man guarding him. The guy had holstered his weapon, but still showed no indication of finding Murphy's sense of jest laughable.

"Just like the military," Murphy said, "no sense of humor".

END PART 1


	2. Chapter 2

_**2-Codename: Murphy**_

"_**The Cursed"**_

Author's notes: Murphy finds himself exploring his own conscious. Sometimes the route to the discovery of ourselves is not just what we see and experience on the outside, but rather, what can be explored within...what lies within the frontiers of our own mind.

Murphy is in a weird position here, usually people do their soul-searching at a much younger age, not he. Murphy's life had been riddled with selfishness and a desire to see to his own survival. Now he sees that he has others that need him, and of course he needs them. He begins to consider that maybe he should soften up his hard shell somewhat...maybe let them see that he has feelings and can show some emotion. He might be willing to reveal a bit more about himself...?

_**MURPHY (Acronym), Military Undercover & Reconnaissance Personnel Hybrids.**_

_************ Zombies Don't Bite, They Devour *************_

As Murphy lay there on the gurney, in the prison infirmary, he was strapped down. He knew that he had agreed to be given a dose of an experimental vaccine. One that may help to cure the virus (_which had months ago infected the entire nation and had spread across the shores to Europe, the Middle East, Asia, the continent of Africa, and also South America_), the plague had likely delved into every corner of the world by now, and was consuming its victims with disease and pestilence, but, it didn't kill them. Rather, it turned them into _walking undead_, undead with a desire to reclaim their souls, which meant that to do so they must devour the flesh of the living.

Zombie feeding, it wasn't about filling their gut, but rather it was about consuming, devouring, in regard to saving its own eternity. A zombie's motivation was not to eat, but rather to save its spirit. To save what was once a living, breathing human being from being ferried to the gates of Hades.

Within the zombie brain there existed a paradox, a vent, a manifestation which spoke that to save oneself from doomed it must eat, consume, even upon death. It must devour new flesh...as its own was rotting away. In this regard it could generate a new soul, for without a soul it was bound to damnation forever.

Of course this was all speculation, but it was thought that this may be the reason zombies had so much zeal. Most zombies considered that they had lost this, a right to enter into heaven or venture to a new dimension after death if they retained was no aspect of themselves which allowed the transgression of time, space, and or consciousness. The soul was the key, the admittance to another life, or another existence.

Anyway, Murphy had signed up to do this, yeah he was a volunteer. However, at the time of agreement he hadn't been privy to all of the information and known well what could be the consequences.

Doctor Merch, the scientist/doctor in charge of the proceedings, stood next to him. They exchanged a bit of banter before she injected him with some sort of drug. From that moment on things became something of a blur. The room began spinning and he could see that things were beginning to turn into a state of havoc.

He looked over to the other victims, I mean patients, the inmates who had volunteered along with him. The guy to his right was lying on a cot looking over at him...

"See ya later Murphy," the man spoke, framing jest. And then he turned and looked over at the other individual who had accompanied them, "and you too Murphy," he said.

Evidently it was sort of a joke. All three had been named Murphy. Just what codename or number would be used to identify them separately was the question? Would it be something as vanilla as Murphy, 1, 2, & 3, or would it be something else? At this time it was unknown, and it would remain that way, for at that moment the room became swarmed with Z's, at which point...names didn't matter anymore.

Murphy was aware of the creatures surrounding him. He could feel them clawing at him, their saliva forming pools of drool on his body as they ripped his standard issue prison uniform from his chest. He screamed but it was only awash and drowned with the screams of others, the beasts had begun tearing people apart. He could feel the ripping of his skin as their teeth sunk into his flesh and they began taking chucks of his body into their mouths.

Murphy remembered their faces, the rotting flesh, the sunken eyes deep within the sockets, but mostly he remembered the teeth. The red, filled with gore mouths that looked like it belonged to grinning skulls, skulls with only a thin patch of skin pulled over the top.

He was in a daze and he thought about it then...zombies don't bite, they devour. He knew that he was going to be torn to shreds, eaten alive but he wasn't feeling much pain. Maybe the drug had produced a numbing effect in his brain. He could barely feel their torment, however, just seeing the skin being pulled from his body was horrific enough, and then all went dark.

_************ Self Evaluation in the Apocalypse *************_

The next thing Murphy remembered was that he had awakened and had discovered that he was with a patrol of men, of soldiers, and they were making their way west. There was a laboratory out in California, a scientific research center that the soldier in charge, a Lieutenant Hammond, had been tasked with escorting him to. Well "escorting" may have been the wrong word to use here, a better phrase may had been "custodian over".

Murphy, although he did feel himself a prisoner, also felt that he had some value. And that value centered on the fact that he was still alive. The vaccine had worked on him. Eight zombie bites, eight places on his body where several of the menacing creatures had sunken their teeth into him and pulled away with a part of his flesh in their gaping holes. Still he had remained alive and hadn't turned, and that made him special.

Murphy looked around. He still wasn't happy with his situation. For one thing, this was a small group of guardians, if they were attacked by a large horde of Z's could they really protect him? Well, he didn't really have much choice in the matter now did he? He was stuck with them and they were stuck with him, a matter of consequence. Still, it didn't make him feel any better, matter of fact Murphy felt miserable, he felt irritated, and although the first initial injection of the drug may have acted as an anesthetic, giving him a numbing effect, it had worn off some time ago and the bite wounds were beginning to hurt as they scared over. This made him irritable, and when he felt like this he lashed out with insults, it was his defense mechanism.

Murphy had always been a smart mouth, and had used words like the sting of a viper. It had cost him, he had driven away some of his family members with his bitter words. This might be a way for him to make it up to them. Having the government protect and secure them during this crisis (it had said so on the document he had sighed). Of course that could have all been bull-shit. He didn't hold much confidence in authority. He didn't hold much confidence in anyone, other than himself. Murphy's basic motivations were based on insecurities, insecurities of himself.

Whatever the reason for his low self-esteem it meant little in a world gone cray-Z. He knew that he could be a real shit-head at times, but he had been that way for so long it had become second nature. He did have a talent with his sharp tongue; he could insult someone and they may not even know it, or get the jest that they had been disrespected, and this made him feel smarter than some folk.

Anyway, Murphy glanced around at the men who were posted as guardians over him. He knew that it wasn't their fault, that they were just doing their duty, following commands, still, it didn't make him feel any more pleasant towards them.

Murphy heard Lt. Hammond communicating with someone over a radio. Someone calling themselves Citizen Z, some kind of codename he was sure. Hammond saw Murphy approach...

"Hold on a sec, he's standing right here..." The Lieutenant had said. He handed the headset over to Murphy who then took it and placed it to his ear.

"Hello,"

"Is this the package?"

Murphy was a little stunned and perturbed that he would be referred to as a "package" rather than a human being. His replied was in his regular Murphy manner.

"I got your package right here," he said, reaching down and grabbing himself.

"Nice," Citizen Z spoke, "You really are an ass-hole." There was a pause...

"Listen up Murphy, I have some information for you..."

END PART 2


	3. Chapter 3

_**Codename: Murphy 3**_

_**Zombie Salvation**_

Author's notes: Murphy learns of information that coddles him a bit, flavors his stinging tongue with a taste of peppermint as to say. Still bad habits are hard to break; he still holds a fancy for speaking to people as if they were below him, not of the same level. What was he in prison for?

_**Murphy (Acronym), Military Undercover & Reconnaissance Personnel Hybrids.**_

_************ Zombie Salvation *************_

After his initial conversation with Citizen Z Murphy seemed a little quieter than his usual self, Lieutenant Hammond had noticed. The lieutenant walked over to the man, who was sitting silently by himself...

Murphy...it was obvious that he didn't have many friends, and it seemed as if he didn't want any. Actually, he was the kind of guy that more pushed people away, being the ray of sunshine that he was, and with the shiny attitude that he kept.

"So, your talk with Citizen Z, what was that all about?"

Murphy looked over at the man who'd asked the question.

"About?..._private_."

Lieutenant Hammond made quick to move to correct him.

"I'm not a private...I'm a lieutenant as you know, Delta Force. Do you think the military would put some private in charge of an operation like this, escorting an inmate cross-country? No ass-hole, you may have been in the lock-up but since the apocalypse you've become an asset to the cause, lucky us."

Of course this last bit of assessment was delivered by Hammond with a bit of sarcasm.

Murphy studied the man.

"Well, didn't mean...that's not to speak... I wasn't talking about your rank lieutenant, I was merely stating that is was a _private_ conversation, held in confidence, so the matter is none of your concern," Murphy said. The ex-convict had developed a little confidence since becoming aware that he may now be an individual that held the cure for what plagued the earth, why not exploit it, use his new found liberties...so he added, "...so get off my back, will ya?"

Hammond looked over at Murphy, evaluating him a bit. Why would scientists entrust a man like this with Zombie Salvation, or rather world salvation? Well of course they didn't have a choice. What free citizen would allow themselves to be injected with an experimental drug having no clue as to the end result? No, Doctor Merch had known what she was doing... Research for an antidote may be better tested on someone with a bleak future already. And, at least one of her subjects seemed to be holding a promise to the future, the world's future, and it was Murphy, God help us.

Still, even with these thoughts going through the Lieutenant's brain, he did not know the truth, the full truth. Murphy was special, that was for sure, but he wasn't the only one.

Murphy had been informed that there may be others, and this was what had put the ex-prison inmate into a sour mood, well, more sour that his usual.

Murphy had learned from Citizen Z that he was not so special, that in fact, in holding facilities across the nation others had been injected with experimental vaccines as well. There were two down a Georgia prison outside of Atlanta who'd been given a dose (West Georgia Correctional Institution- Tomas & Andrew) and another down in Texas. However, Citizen Z had lost contact with them, and it wasn't known if they, or their handlers, were dead, alive, or maybe undead. God what a disaster this had become.

Anyhoo...

Citizen Z had told him too that there may be other operations in progress, things that he didn't know about (did our government keep secrets?), and that he, CZ, was still searching. He was going through the files in his location now (at the Northern-Lights post...what else did he have to do all day?). Anyway, some of them had password-codes, defenses that he had not been able to crack yet, at this time.

Simon Cruller or Pfc. Cruller (CZ) was in dire need to see that "Patient Zero" made it to his destination. By hook-or-crook Simon was determined to see this through, otherwise he may be the only living human being left on the planet.

"Now, I want you to understand something Murphy," Simon had explained to him during their private conversation, "...that should the others become aware of the fact that you may not be the only salvation of the world, that there may be others roaming around the country that too, may hold the cure, well that lessens your statue a bit doesn't it. Disintegrates your worth." Then there was a pause here...

"I'd keep this under my hat it I were you. Your value is only as good as the secrets you keep, figger? You continue being an ass-hole then one of them Delta Force boys may deturmine that the world is better off dead, then to having you as its redeemer, its Messiah. You keep pushing their buttons and maybe one of them will put a bullet through your skull, just to shut you up. I've never met you and I want to shoot you myself already."

Murphy fell silent; it was one of the few times he had nothing to say.

Simon Cruller ended the transmission. He looked over at the only living thing that he shared the compound with, this huge complex that he was king over. He gazed down at the animal.

"I never thought that the psych classes that I was given during NSA training would ever come to any use," he spoke looking down at the beast that was resting peacefully on the floor, "I can't psycho-analyze you now can I? However Murphy is something else, he is a creature that is all about self-preservation. He may be smart, but when threatened, or sensing threat, he shuts up quickly and can be led like a horse to water."

Simon paused here for a moment...

"I can't help myself, I kinda like the guy. A little rough around the edges but I think we can mold him into the person we want him to be, what do you think?"

He looked again down at the creature at his feet; the animal lifted its eyebrows (as if it understood), Simon sat back in his chair...

"That's what I was thinking too, here I am talking to you about Murphy as if you were a person, a person that understands what I'm saying, a person that has no problem bending over and licking himself. Maybe I'm not as smart as I think I am either."

END PART 3


	4. Chapter 4

_**Codename: Murphy 4**_

_**Guardians & Devils**_

Author's notes: This story arc is of the timeline where we are first introduced to Murphy, Lt. Hammond, Dr. Merch & any other character on the show of Z Nation. It may even include some references from other zombies shows because in my opinion, the "zombie apocalypse" was spontaneous, and happened all at once. Therefore, the plague, virus or whatever cause the infection could be happening at slightly different times and different locations, but it is all the same apocalypse. The main cast will remain the hosts of ZN though, as for, this story is about those people. I am also Introducing some new players (OC)

Sergeant Clare Taylor, Sergeant Geno Robinson (pronounced _Gee-no_), and Sergeant Lewis Townsend.

_**MURPHY (Acronym), Military Undercover & Reconnaissance Personnel Hybrids.**_

_************ The Pecking Order *************_

"OK, break-time is over!"

Lieutenant Hammond called for his team to take one last sip from their water canteens and then prepare to move out.

His team consisted of Sergeant Taylor, Sergeant Robinson and Sergeant Townsend, and then of course there was Murphy.

Murphy hadn't placated himself so well with the members of "team Hammond", so the lieutenant knew, that should the mission fail, and "_Patient Zero_" become infected with disease, then there would be no difficulty in finding a volunteer that would shy away from putting a bullet through his skull, giving Mercy (that is, giving themselves mercy from having to listen to Murphy whine and complain about everything all the time).

Hammond's team was made up of some of the best soldiers he'd ever served with, and he felt confident that at least one of them would be around to see "_Patient Zero_" to his destination. As far as he knew, the civilian traveling with them (Murphy) was..._the only person to ever survive being bitten by zombies_.

Hammond was a tough and rugged individual; Delta Force, one of the elite of fighting forces of the U.S., and DF didn't recruit and maintain its status by allowing lambs into its fold, or by drafting babies. No these guys were of a degree outside the limit, they were special and they knew it. The Lieutenant informed his group as to how the progression of their mission would continue.

"I'll take point," the Lieutenant had said, "followed by Taylor, Robinson and then Townsend...bringing up the rear. Remember, spacing people, twenty paces between each soldier, and stay alert."

There was the sound of shuffling gear as the soldiers moved their equipment around to make it more comfortable for them to proceed for the lengthy journey ahead.

"What about me?" Murphy questioned. "Where do I fit in into your grand scheme of the universe?" He was viewing the Lieutenant as he said this.

Hammond looked at him...

"Why, in the middle of course, between Taylor and Robinson," the lieutenant said... giving him a glare that seemingly made Murphy feel stupid.

Murphy considered the look that the Lieutenant had given him, and he didn't like it. Although he frolicked at being "slow-in-the-drift", he didn't really enjoy being called out about it, being put on post that he actually wasn't smarter than those around him.

Murphy considered himself above the plain and ordinary, superior to the folk who surrounded him. He considered that he may even be smarter than some of the average-joes that worked at the Pentagon, after all, who of them could exist within the nation's prison system, for the time that he had, and still make claim to being a virgin (in the literal sense of the word), well, as to say in regard as to some portions of their anatomy.

Murphy gave Hammond that, "you are an ass-hole" glare.

_************ The Town *************_

As the small group walked along a narrow path the Lieutenant became aware of a town up ahead, and it seemed, docile, cold and uninviting, still they moved forward. Once they had entered there was evidence that something major had happened...the devastating look of the place, the burnt brick, the charred mortar, it all alluded to an intense blaze.

The sky was grey, and it reflected its emotion upon the ground, the same ground now being traversed by Lt. Hammond and his team. All of the destruction spoke that this place had been fire-bombed. That it had been, at some point, subjected to elimination. A desired process by some outside force which expressed the idea that this town should be scrubbed, cleansed, washed away (like a surgeon washes their hands before an operation to squelch and subdue any contaminant), extinguished by fire and flame.

It vented to Hammond's eyes, as he looked around, that this resembled a scene like that of an old World War 2 movie, one of the old black and white war films he'd seen as a child (the remains of which seemed somber and grey).

In the main thoroughfare of the village there was the scattering about of dirt and debris from fallen building facades. Rubble...like the dimly colored legos of a child's building blocks strewn across the floor.

Hammond looked back at his crew, and in his eyes they could read the wisdom of caution. Taylor, Robinson and Townsend knew, they knew that their lieutenant would not give them that look if he didn't want them to proceed with even more caution than they usually did. His eyes implied that he was getting a gut feeling that something bad was about to happen, that intuition that a good commander feels.

They trusted their leader, and if his eyes determined that they should move along at a snail's pace, then so be it. Hammond was not about to give his brood, any of them, less than the best advantage. He was a man of value.

That was the telling thing about Delta Force squads, that trust that they had in their comrades was absolute. That if you were paired with another soldier, in a helicopter, on the ground, or wherever, even though that individual may be a total stranger, if you were Delta Force, then you were not strangers but rather brothers (or sisters...kinsmen in some regard), and that relation made you family by sweat.

Hammond was a man on a mission, and he was a person that knew that there was no guarantee who, or when they would meet their next advisory. It could be persons that were human (survivors in search of food and provisions), or it may be the undead. He just didn't know.

As his team walked through the shattered remains of this town they also became aware of its burnt victims...emaciated souls with blackened bodies, souls that it was unknown if they had been human upon their elimination, or Zs.

The group kept silent as it advanced.

All of a sudden their came a terrifying shriek to Hammond's ears, and he and Taylor turned to see that Murphy had been grabbed by one of these charred bodies, its thin crispy fingers holding him firmly by the ankle, these beasts were still living! Robinson advanced quickly and put a bullet through the zombie's head. The blast sent a shock-wave bouncing off the surrounding structures and sent a host of crows bellowing off, away from the center of town, screeching insults that they had been disturbed.

Too, there came to the groups' ears, the rustle of things, as if other creatures had been disrupted, disrupted from sleep, dead things. The piles of char and ash that surrounded the group suddenly began to erupt. Hands and then heads and then torsos of crispified corpses began to crawl out of the rubble.

Taylor was grabbed by one of these creatures and she quickly moved to disband her antagonist, however there was another approaching her from her blind-side. Hammond too was being attacked, and he began shouting orders for the others to start pouring-out the lead. Robinson and Townsend were being harassed, and Murphy coddled next to the side of a building, observing the on-goings of the melee.

The group was under full onslaught, however they were dishing out better than they were getting. Hammond called for them to make a run for it. He shouted for Robinson to grab Murphy along the way. The team high-tailed it out of there but not before they'd dispatched most of their tormentors along the way.

At a safe distance in the road up ahead they turned to look back. There were only three Zs remaining, creatures of which were bodiless from the waist down, unable to attack or pursuer them with any speed.

Hammond looked at his group...

"OK, time to continue, let's move out," he ordered, but before they could take a step the Lieutenant, as well as the others, heard someone clear his throat. All turned to view Townsend, the last soldier in line. He held up his right arm and it was obvious that it was soaked through with an immense amount of blood. Clare was the first to voice her utter shock.

"You've been bitten (?)...God no Lewis!"

All eyes were on Townsend, their eyes as big around as hubcaps. His too were big... as they watched streams of crimson beginning to pour from his shirtsleeve. There was a moment of complete silence and disbelief, and then all of them, all of them realized that this meant one thing, that the sergeant would no longer be continuing the journey with them.

He too knew what must be done, as well as Hammond and the rest.

"Please, continue on with the mission," he spoke

"Wait," Clare said, "you go with us and when we get to where we're going we'll get the cure from Murphy and we'll save you."

Townsend looked at the only female of the group, he felt her concern but he knew that wasn't possible.

"Clare, you know as well as I that I'd never make it. I'd be gone with within a few steps outside of town. And too, I'd be putting the mission at risk. No, best that I stay here among the souls that I put to rest just a few moments ago," his mouth spoke the truth but his eyes conveyed that he was scared.

_************ Proceeding Forward *************_

The group remained speechless as they waited outside of town just a few yards down the road. There was Sergeant Taylor,Sergeant Robinson, and Murphy. Hammond had stayed in the village.

Just then the silence was broken by the sound of a gun blast, magnified in volume because they knew it was coming. In moments the Lieutenant returned and his eyes were glazed over with the shine of dampness. He voiced a command...but his words did not crack.

"OK, we proceed forward," he ordered. "Murphy you're behind me, followed by Taylor and then Robinson. Let's get you to California."

END PART 4


	5. Chapter 5

_**Codename: Murphy 5**_

"_**What was Cold, Can Be Made Warm"**_

Author's notes: Murphy and Hammond face-off in a melee of philosophies.

_***************** Dog Eat Dog *****************_

This story creation is built from hints, suggestion, and ideas derived from s/f television's presentation of their zombie show Z Nation. Though I do see some room for improvement in the series I also feel that it is entertaining and contain a cast that can be moved forward to create some really interesting characters.

This work is will be peppered with many of the people of that show, however, its main thrust will be that of Murphy. I think the guy has a lot of room for exploration and discovery (although I will be taking a few liberties at fleshing out his character, as well as many of ZN personalities). Still, I also hope to tie all things into the main body of the work. Thank you for reading, Z

Murphy has shown to be a character of both depth and magnitude; however he is also someone who has shown to be selfish, annoying, and a bit of an a-hole. Someone of who is totally vacant of the feelings of others and totally absorbed in himself. There is no debate about this. However, I do think that there is another side to _Patient zero,_ a part, an episode that we haven't seen yet.

Released from prison, in a manner of sorts, Murphy is now seeing the world with a different set of eyes, figuratively speaking. He is viewing the world in a different manner than what he knew before, or in his witness to _mans' cruelty towards man_ in prison. He considers the attributes of caring and compassion as more common and frequent now, since he's become a member of Lieutenant Mark Hammond crew. It wasn't so much of a _dog-eat-dog_ world as he original philosophized, it had become more of a zombie-eat-human type of situation, literally...and Murphy was becoming aware that there were people he needed to count on, for his own survival.

Murph was in revision of his ideals of thinking. He was under the consideration that there were others out there, even some unknown to him until recently, who actually held concerns about him, about other people. Individuals who were, only days before, total strangers yet now they seemed to be on his side and were trying to safeguard him. He had grown to like Lieutenant Hammond's squad, well at least a little. These people were seeing to his protection and wellbeing, and even though there was an ulterior motive, he still felt that they would help him even if he didn't hold the possible cure to this insanity. No, Murphy's attitude was changing, although rather it be at a snail's pace.

Does Murphy harbor the capability of turning into a likable type of guy? Has it taken a _zombie apocalypse_ to make him see the light and caring of humanity?

After years of being the way he was, Murph still holds some reluctance to change, but in _worse-case_ scenarios...sometimes people can and do change.

_******** What was Cold, Can Be Made Warm ********_

"So, how does it feel to have to shoot one of your own men?"

Lieutenant Hammond heard a voice from behind him utter those words, and he knew without looking over his shoulder who it was. He recognized the voice, and the question was so callous, cold, and fridge, there was only one person traveling in his group who could ask such an idiotic thing, _**Murphy**_.

Murphy addressed Hammond while the lieutenant was consumed in other thoughts...

After a six mile hike Hammond had ordered his troop to halt, to "take five". Cool down a bit and quench their thirst with water. To relax their feet, and too, to double-check their equipment, then Mark had moved forward a few paces to scout the road up ahead. Murphy had followed.

Looking through his binoculars the Lieutenant knew that it would be better if they could find a vehicle to transport them, a car, a truck, but preferably a van. Actually his ideal vehicle would have been a tank, but how many tanks can be found pulled aside on the Nation's highways?

Anyway, Murphy had come up behind him, and in a callous moment had pointed the question to the man about Townsend. Actually he had spoken the words on impulse, almost without thinking.

(_In really Murphy was just curious as to Hammond's mindset, his emotional state of the brain; he hadn't really meant any harm or cruelty with his question, he was just wondering about Hammond's stability. Murphy often muttered words without thinking, his brain having developed in a manner which put him in a shell. His thoughts and ideas were __**first**__, about him, and then __**second**__, about him, and __**thirdly**__ about others, but only if it concerned him)_

Murph had only meant to start up a conversation Lt. Hammond, not to bring up bitter feeling...so his motive, although seeming cold, had been innocent.

(_Actually I can see a parallel between Murphy and Merle Dixon. Not suggesting that they shared any kind of a violent nature, only coldness and selfishness of heart_)

Hammond looked at the man...

"I've never had to shoot any of my soldiers," he spoke, paused a bit, his eyes glaring into Murphy's, and then continued, "...and I would advance into the pits of hell to save any of them, and they know it."

_Patient Zero_ had recognized his mistake the moment the words had escaped his lips, and as he peered into the Lieutenant's eyes he wondered if his callous speech would cause the Lieutenant to pull his pistol and put a bullet directly through the center of his brain, thus ridding themselves of this pain in their asses?

"I'm sorry," Murph apologized, "I didn't mean to...that is to say...well, I'm only concerned with idea if you hate me now, since losing one of your men back there?"

Hammond looked at him.

"Mr. Murphy, I don't hate you, I never have. Yes you could be a little more pleasant considering that we are trying to save you, which may include saving the world, but your actual philosophical make-up and social skills are not so important to me right now. If getting you to Dr. Merch's laboratory means that we have to put up you're your whining and insults, then we are ready to do that. At this moment your body is priority, not your heartless soul."

Hammond paused here for a moment, and then continued...

"And like I said, I have never had to shoot any of my soldiers. Townsend put his own 45 to his head, he only wanted me there as witness, to make sure the deed was done and the dead remained dead. He wanted me to make sure that when he took himself out that there was no life remaining in his body. The agreement was for me to finish it, if I witnessed movement...that was all. The man was a soldier to the end."

Hammond now returned to looking down the road through his binoculars.

Murphy had painted himself as being an individual who was cold and heartless. In this regard he didn't have many friends; people that cared about him or that he, himself, felt responsible for look out for. However, now he was beginning to warm up the Lt. Hammond and Sergeant Taylor, and Sergeant Robinson too, and he was a little confused about that feeling. He wasn't sure if he liked it or not.

END PART 5


	6. Chapter 6

_**Codename: Murphy 6**_

"_**Values"**_

Author's notes: _**Values... **_is a chapter which contains a bit of a reverse meaning of sorts, it can be seen as the values of which different people hold things close and dear to themselves...or it can show the change of daytime into night, the value of light into darkness or darkness into light, sundown to sunrise.

Upon a person's death, it is spoken that some souls see a bright light, while others experience only darkness...the values of light & darkness.

My thanks for reading, Z

_******** The River ********_

The evening was dark, well it was going to be after the sun went down, however right at this moment there was still a fraction of sunlight left to show that there wasn't a cloud in the sky, and there hadn't been all day.

As he sat in the front of the canoe Mark Hammond knew that as soon as the night took over...that there would be a multitude of starts reflected in the calm waters of the tributary they were crossing, just as there was the fading orange reflection mirrored in its surface at this moment right now. The Lieutenant didn't know what body of water he and Murphy were traversing at this time, he only knew that it was aligned east to west, and since west was the direction of their destination, what better way to travel, and to avoid Zs, than to drift peacefully downstream without much effort.

Suddenly his peaceful moment was disturbed by someone sitting in the back of the boat, of course it was Murphy.

"So, is this your idea of rapid transportation...?"

Hammond didn't even turn around to acknowledge _patient zero's_ comment.

Murphy paused, waiting to receive his latest brow-beating from the Lieutenant, it didn't come. He decided to push his insult a little further...

"Ya know...this might be fine for me. My insides holding the key to the cure of the zombie apocalypse and all, heck the anti-toxins in my blood may even extend my life a thousand years, or maybe to eternity, who knows, but what good will that do you? Headed to California in a canoe, it may take us a century to get there traveling in this way, and by then my friend I don't think that you'll be around."

"Shut up Murphy," Hammond said, "I'll like to spend at least the beginning of this boat ride without hearing some kind of smart ass comment come out of your mouth."

Hammond listened for a reply, but none came. Maybe this would turn out to be a peaceful trip after all. The Lieutenant knew why Murphy was mad, and he knew what had put him in such a sour mood. He, himself hadn't liked the decision either, but he knew that it was something that had to be done; it was the right thing to do.

Murphy had actually gotten better with his whining and insults of late, they had become less frequent. But now they seemed to be starting up again, and this time he may have good reason.

They had left Sergeant Taylor behind; she had been the last of his crew to be with them when they had made it to the water's edge. Sergeant Robinson had been killed earlier in the day in a Z attack. He had been trying to rescue a family trapped inside a house, people who'd become cornered by Zs. He hadn't succeeded.

Now after pushing them out, away from the bank, Sergeant Taylor was on a mission to return to that house and get the family out, save them. Murphy had looked back over his shoulder and watched as the woman's face had slowly disappeared into the increasing shadow of late evening, and for once, once in a very long time, he felt sad for somebody. He remembered watching her stand there on the shore, all alone and helpless looking, she had become smaller and smaller until there was nothing left. That was when the mood had hit him, and it was the reason for him being in the state of agitation that he was. Why, why was it that whenever he started to enjoy someone's company, they weren't around much longer?

Yeah, Hammond knew the reason why Murphy was upset, he too felt it, so much gloom and doom, was this mission really worth it?

_******** Thinking About the Past ********_

Sitting in the front of the canoe, Lieutenant Hammond began to recall the day he had first met Murphy.

That day had been a tough one. He had already lost four of his men by then. Only he and Valdez were able to make it to the prison (_Of course when the Delta Force operatives had arrived at the Portsmouth Naval laboratory the preliminaries had already taken place with Murphy, along with two other inmates. They had been given their "Last Rights", in a manner of speaking_).

That was when the _shit had hit the fan_ and the prison had become overrun. Hammond had escorted Dr. Merch up to the prison roof. There, he had told her that if he wasn't back in two minutes that she and the copter were to leave without him. The Doctor at first had wanted to question his decision; however looking into the Lieutenant's eyes she could see that he was determined to complete the mission. She had unwillingly agreed.

Hammond had left and returned for Murphy, and as luck would have it, he had found the man still alive, swarmed by Zs, but still screaming insults, as was his nature. Anyway, the Delta Force officer was able to take out all of the man-eaters and free Murphy from his restraints.

When the two of them had returned to the roof the Lieutenant found that Whiskey Bravo had gone. They had e-vaced with the doctor aboard, however three Delta Force sergeants had remained behind to assist him. Taylor, Robinson and Townsend (_leave no soldier behind, wasn't that the military code of honor_)...

Now however, glancing back at Murphy, Hammond knew that was not what he'd done. He had left Taylor behind; he had broken the _golden rule _of the warrior's code. However a decision needed to be made, and it had been made. The Lieutenant was to continue on with the mission, while she, Sergeant Taylor, returned to the house where Robinson had died.

The plan was for her to rescue the family trapped within and then meet up with them again at a destination down the way. There was another canoe waiting at the water's edge, and there was a military operation being set up at about a day's travel west, somewhere around a school or something.

Taylor could take the second canoe, and along with the remaining survivors catch up to them by daybreak. It was a slim possibility, but it was still a possibility.

Deep down Hammond knew that he would never see the sergeant again, and he knew that Murphy knew it too, if there was one thing that _patient zero_ was good at, it was that he didn't mince words, and at this moment Hammond knew that Murphy blamed him, blamed him for leaving Sergeant Taylor behind. The family in the house was as good as dead, so why risk it? Wasn't he, Murphy, priority?

Taylor was history, and each of them knew it. Both men felt sick to their stomachs, however at that moment Hammond saw a flash of light along the water's edge up ahead. He recognized it as a signal which spoke that they should identify themselves, which meant that whoever had produced the light had to have military knowledge. He replied with a return message, a click of his own flashlight.

On the bank several yards away a man stood on watch. He had noticed a boat coming downstream in the pale light of the stars, and he surmised that unless Zs had learned how to paddle (they hadn't, but they could float) then whoever was approaching his position was human. Still, he wanted someone as backup; he wanted cover while he made contact.

"This is Garnett to Warren, Garnett to Warren over." he spoke into his _walkie_.

"_Go for Warren, whus up Charlie?"_

"...I'm at the water's edge, sure could use a little backup..."

"_Two minutes_." Came the reply.

Garnett slung his radio. He felt better now that he knew Warren was coming.

END PART 6


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